Tuesday, November 24, 2015


And nothing really at all. Just north of Beacon
it seemed this train turned allegiance  - went 
into some other land, put its attention somewhere 
else. I couldn't tell : those rolling hills had risen up
now, to something more than that  - here and there
a precipice, with lots of rocks. The Hudson still
rolled on, as if in the opposite direction to this
travel  -  me, going one way, and the rest of the
world, the other. Across the vain aisle from
me sat some hippie girl, dawdling with a scratch
pad first, then onto a guitar. Had to let me guess:
Saugerties, Lake Katrine, Woodstock, Shokan.
Maybe even Palenville, but if so, why? The 
wandering numb mind of a schoolteacher 
lass? A folk singer out for a blast? 
(Or as my friend, 'Weirdo Beardo'
would say...'All we are saying, is
get piece of ass.' That was then.
All hail John and Yoko?)....

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